4 Minutes
by Coconabanana
Summary: If you have four minutes left to live, what would you do? America and England knew just exactly what they would do. America/England. Borderline PWP. Omake is up! In which Canada would ask for a therapy fee from America.
1. 4 Minutes

**Title**:: 4 Minutes

**Character(s)/Pairing(s**):: America/England and a soon to be exploding bomb in the middle, no pun intended there.

**Rating**:: R15…almost NC17 but, whichever…

**Warning**:: it's long for a supposedly quick fic, no real plot whatsoever a.k.a. PWP, and shagging (borderline sex) I…cannot write real sex just yet… OTL. Oh and unbeta'd.

**Disclaimer**:: Timbaland owns the music, England owns Madonna, America owns Justin Timberlake, and Himaruya owns Hetalia… I own nothing.

**Summary**:: If you have four minutes left to live, what would you do? America and England knew just exactly what they would do.

**A/N**: A quick one-shot fic based on the song 4 Minutes by Madonna feat. Justin Timberlake. Just yesterday I put the song on my first FST compilation (for America/England) and then today I thought… 'hey! Why not making it into a real story?' XD;;. So here you go; very quickly written and unbeta'd (because my beta is busy). Ignore any grammar incoherency. 8'D

**Edit**: Fixed some typos. But I bet there're still errors anyway. =3=

* * *

Their ragged breath filled the tight closed space, cold sweats trickling down their cheeks, hands trembling, fingers touching, feet shaking, bodies kept on moving, and it was too hot for the both of them.

"A-America…" England called, his breath hitched when America's fingers grazed the wrong place. "Are…" Another hitched breath, "…are you sure you want to do this here?"

America scrunched up his face in concentration, trying to focus at the task at hand. "Yes, England. Now, please shut it and just follow on my lead," he replied breathlessly. "You know you're not making it easy by breathing on my neck like this, right?"

"Uh… Right," England moved a little to the side. "But, but… I don't think I can take this anymore."

"Me neither. Um… can you move a little more? I need more space to do this."

England tried to even out his breathing, keeping his nervousness away. He looked at America's face and then hissed when the self-proclaimed hero pushed his gloved fingers inside. "Damn, you stupid git! Don't randomly push anything!" he yelled and whacked America's head. "What if the _bomb_ explodes now?"

America pouted and massaged his head, "Gee, England. I told you to not keep breathing on my neck like that! You're making me nervous!" He picked up the small black box and put it onto his lap and poked the side where there were three small holes. He had tried to peek from the holes but he could see nothing but wires.

England muttered curses under his breath and tried to keep his hands from hitting the dumb American again. "At least don't try something that can set this bomb off faster. We only have seven bloody minutes left, wanker!"

The younger of the two pouted again but didn't reply. The small 'tick tick' that came from the timed bomb was surely making the both of them even more nervous as the digital timer displayed on the upper side of the box signaled the amount of time they had left before the bomb exploded. Them being stuck in a busted elevator didn't really help England keep his anger at bay.

England wondered again—as America slowly unscrewed the metal box open using a small knife that England knew he always kept safely under one of his shoes—how they ended up in this situation; stuck in an elevator, with a timed bomb nonetheless.

--

_Ten minutes before…_

"I thought I raised you better than that! All you can bloody think up are just some nonsensical ideas and what the hell with that gigantic robot proposal?! Are you out of you bloody mind?" England huffed in discontent as he stepped into the elevator with America following suit. They were just coming out of yet another meaningless world conference where once again America told them about his absurd ideas, and currently wanted to go back to their hotel.

"Please, Iggy. Not _that_ again," America replied, rolling his eyes while doing so. "I already had enough of you ranting about the past again when you're drunk last night, y'know."

England hissed and threw a cold glance over America. "If only you can start talking smarter than the way you are now, I'll stop bringing it up."

America pouted and put his hands inside his pants pocket after he pushed the button with the letter 'B' so the elevator would take them to the parking lot down in the basement where their cars were, "But I am smart! And awesome! And you like me anyway!"

England's face turned redder and he tried so hard not to splutter. He failed. "I-I-I don't like you!"

"Haha! Yeah, right," America teased him, nudging England with his elbow. "Have you forgotten what we did just this morning to cure your headache because of your hangover? Why do you still keep on denying it, Iggy? How many times do we have to go over this again?"

Even his ears turned crimson then.

"Ahhh~ You're so cute, Iggy~ You haven't forgotten then?" America swooned.

How could've England forgotten it? He was still practically wincing every time he sat down at the meeting. So all the still in denial Brit could do when America draped an arm over his shoulder and nuzzled his nose to the crook of his neck was trying not to squirm and swoon over the intimate gesture.

A small 'ting' was heard, making both blondes looked up to the elevator door which was slowly opening. England pushed America away from him with all his might until the younger blonde hit the other side of the elevator's wall and then looked away—he cleared his throat and hoped his face didn't look too red—when a man in suit and shade who was holding a black box entered the elevator. America groaned, his glasses hung askew from the impact.

The man with the black box stood right in the middle of the door, promptly making the door refused to shut. England frowned when he realised what the strange man was doing.

"Hey! Do you want to get inside or not?" America asked, sounded a little bit miffed because of the interruption.

The man looked over to both America and England and then smiled. "Mr. Jones, Mr. Kirkland, I have a package for you," the man said as he handed the black box to England.

"Uh, wait, how did you…?" Before England could finish his question about how the man knew their names (human names), the man had already stepped out of the elevator and the door shut close.

"What was that?" America scooted closer to England to see the box.

The square black box was medium sized, perhaps only eight inches wide. It was covered in black thin metal and England could hear a rattle inside the box when he shook it. He turned the box over and froze on the spot when he saw the red digital numbers of '10:00' and a small 'tick' was heard. His eyes almost popped out of its socket when the numbers started to change to '09:59'.

"Holy shit! It's a bomb!" America shouted near England's ear, almost breaking the eardrum in the process. Just after the shout, the elevator shook violently and the lamp started to blink before finally darkness took over the small space and then the elevator stopped moving completely. America squeaked and latched on to England's neck while muttering '_It's a ghost! It must be a ghost_!'.

A couple of seconds later, the lamp was back on but the elevator didn't budge at all. England let out long sigh when America still didn't let go of his tight grip. As much as he loved it when America clung to him like this (just like when he was still England's colony), they had no time to be touchy-feely when he was still holding on the black box.

"America… We have a timed bomb here, you know," England reminded the frightened American.

America perked up immediately and let go of his hold. His face's expression was a mixture between fear, worry, and relief.

"What do we do now?" England asked, his body was still and he didn't dare to move even one bit for fear the bomb would malfunction and explode. His face paled when he remembered that he shook the box just a few minutes ago. "The elevator's busted. We can't get out," he said to America. England rolled his eyes when the American scratched his chin as if he was thinking about what to do with the bomb.

"Wait! England! Don't move!" America exclaimed suddenly. England scowled at that, he hadn't even moved an inch! "I will stop the bomb!" America forcefully took the box from England, ignoring the older man's indignant scream.

"HOLY FUCKING HELL! DON'T DO THAT, YOU GIT!" England shouted angrily, his heart thumping loudly inside his chest. America's little stunt of taking the box from him frightened the former empire to his wits. They didn't know anything about the bomb and yet there it was America thoughtlessly moving it. "And how the bloody hell do you think you can stop this bomb?"

"Hey! Did you forget that I had training with the Secret Service about terrorist attack before? They taught me what to do if I ever encounter a bomb," America said, grinning widely. But England sensed the bit of uncertainty in his seemingly over-confident voice. "Don't worry, Iggy! I'm the hero! I'll save us both," America added.

England could only sigh and hope that the American's Secret Service agents had taught America well. Or they—like good old Poland would undoubtedly say—would be, like, totally blown up to bits in less than eight minutes.

--

Oh, right, that was how this mess had started.

England could only hope that he could find the damn bastard who left this bomb with him and America after they get out of this mess. Well, that was _if_ they could stop the bomb from exploding first. He sighed and tried to calm his nervousness while America still trying to figure out what to do with the bomb. Really, of all people to be stuck in an elevator with, England had to be stuck with America…oh and yes, the bomb too.

England eyed the red numbers on the box that kept on changing as the time went. They had six minutes and ten seconds left. The lid was opened now and America was trying to pull out every wire in the box carefully. If America didn't find the right wire and cut it soon, they'd die. England shuddered at the thought.

The Brit sighed again for the nth time since America started on 'operating' the timed bomb. He pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. He thought about what would happen if the bomb really exploded. Would they die? Could personification of nations die because of physical cause like this? What would happen to their people? To their land?

England looked over to America and smiled wistfully, perhaps dying with America together with him didn't sound that bad.

England was too engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn't realize America had been calling him. Only when America tilted up his chin that England finally noticed that America had left the bomb—which was still ticking and the digital timer showed that they have four minutes and fifteen seconds left.

Their eyes met and England didn't know what to think when suddenly America gave him a quick peck on the lips. It was over too soon and England didn't even have the chance to respond because America had already darted away.

England blinked a couple of time before his cheeks bloomed red. "Wha-what was that?" he asked, looking straight into America's blue eyes. The blonde American smiled widely and pointed his chin towards the bomb where England could see two large wires poked out of it.

"Red or blue?" America asked.

England's eyebrow twitched in annoyance. "Did you have to kiss me to ask that?"

America didn't answer it immediately, his eyes turned to the bomb again, England followed his gaze and saw they had four minutes left.

"We have four minutes left before the bomb explodes," America said, slowly moving over to England, "Before we die, what do you want to do, Iggy?" He put his hands on either side of England's head, trapping the Brit between him and the wall. England reflexively put his hands on America's chest as a defence move and was a bit frightened when America pushed his way towards him, their faces were only a couple of inches apart.

"Wh-what, what did you mean by that, America?"

America smiled adorably and tilted his head to the side. "_This_, Iggy…" And he moved in to capture England's lips fully, this time it was not just a quick peck.

England's hands moved from America's chest and wrapped securely around America's neck, pulling the younger man closer as their kiss deepened and started to involve their tongues. America's fingers weaved over England's hair and England lifted himself up to America's lap, his legs wrapped around the taller man's hip. England moaned when America's hand slid inside his shirt and pinched his already sensitive nipple. England could feel America's hardened cock and bucked his hips when America's other hand touched his bulged crotch.

They broke the kiss and took a deep breath, foreheads rested against one another and America was smiling, his glasses askew. "Three minutes left, Iggy. Wanna continue?" he offered breathlessly.

England had never seen America looked sexier that this. His heart thumped quicker than before when he could still hear the slow 'tick' coming from the timed bomb. They would die in two minutes and fifty five seconds if they didn't stop the bomb immediately. But that meant they had to stop their current activity. England's decision was; _to hell with the bomb_!

England pushed America until he lie down on the cold elevator's floor, and straddled him. England leaned down and took America's lips in an open-mouthed kiss, fingers weaving the soft blonde hair and hips grinding over America's. America's hand ventured inside England's shirt again, the other was holding the Brit steady. England moaned again when America left his lips and trailed wet and hot kisses over his jaw and neckline.

America turned their position over and now England was the one on his back with America looking down. America was still smiling cockily, he removed his glasses and took a glance to the bomb that was just two feet away from England's head. He leaned down and bit England's ear and England squirmed when America breathed in hot air.

"Red or blue?" America whispered huskily and England tried so hard not to buck up his hips or wrapped up his legs tighter just so he could feel America's clothed erection against his.

"Wh-which-whichever!" England breathed out heavily. It felt so good, so, so good that he couldn't care less about whatever America had just asked him anymore. All England could think about was how to make America shed their clothes off as soon as possible so they could have their sex. That or they could just make each other come while still fully clothed. Both sounded good to England anyway.

They both groaned and moaned each other's name as they kept on grinding and bucking their hips, America had took England's jacket off and kissing his way down England's body as he unbuttoned his shirt.

"One minute to go, Iggy…" America murmured over England's stomach, his tongue playing with the older man's navel, and England didn't take notice of his words again. England grabbed America's hair and pulled him up and there was another kiss, another moan, another hitched breath, another name being called, and no, he couldn't hear the tick went faster.

"It's…" England silenced America by biting his lower lips, "…twenty seconds…" Another bite, "Hah… hah… hah… The bomb will explode in fifteen seconds, England! Do you want to die?"

"Wh-whatever…" England finally responded, he turned his flushed face towards the bomb.

Ten seconds left.

He turned to America again.

"As long as I could die with you, you dumb git."

Their lips crashed again, and England could feel America's smile in between their sloppy and hungry kiss, and that almost made him come right there and then. Well, he almost came when America's hand went inside his pants and grabbed his cock.

Seven seconds left.

America bit England's neck, earning him another loud moan from the older man.

Five second.

England closed his eyes tightly and couldn't think anymore as the digital timer ticked even faster and when one of America's hands—that was inside his pants before—reached up above his head to where the bomb was.

"EnglandEnglandEngland…" America murmured huskily to his ears.

Blue eyes met with green.

"It's blue…" England's breath tickled America's lips.

Three second left.

Their lips locked.

That was when the time finally stopped.

~ Fin ~

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**Endnote**::  
There, I died. I **_did not_** just write that up, okay? It was so randomly written and gosh what the hell did I think of when I wrote it?  
But I need this kind of energy to continue writing my other fics. LOL.

Comment is loved like ice cream.

PS: Might do an omake if I feel the need (and if the readers want it).


	2. 4 Minutes, Behind the Scene

**Title**:: 4 Minutes, Behind the Scene  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**:: Canada, France, Hungary, Japan, America/England  
**Rating**:: pretty much soft R15 (yeah, I managed to duck the NC17 even for the omake, sue me)  
**Warning**:: nothing… other than more shagging and voyeurism? And self-beta'd.  
**Word count**:: 902  
**Disclaimer**:: Canada owns the whole building, Japan owns the rigged fake bomb, Hungary owns the idea, and France owns… his own perversion. Himaruya rules them all. I own nothing but the fic as usual.  
**Summary**:: If you have four minutes left to live, what would you do? America and England knew just exactly what they would do… but they didn't really know what exactly happened behind the scene, did they?

**A/N**: Because everyone (at least those who left comments/reviews) wants it, here you go; the Omake. And thank you to **XbehindtheseaX **for mentioning Hungary in the review. Because of that, the omake ended up a little bit different than I first initially planned it to be. Anyhow, read on!

* * *

It began when Canada overheard Hungary and France _discussing_ about his brother and former ruler's relationship—relationship as in their _sex_ relationship—after the previous world conference. Canada wasn't eavesdropping, mind you. He was standing near them all the time! It's just that he had the tendency to be transparent at certain times—most likely all the time—and both European nations didn't really notice that he was there. Yes, even France, Canada's former brother figure.

Canada sniffed. Kumajiro tilted his head up.

"Who?"

"I'm Canada…"

And then somehow or another, Japan was involved in the conversation—no, Japan didn't notice that Canada was there—and they were starting to bet on who topped most of the time. Hungary bet a hundred Euros for America, France bet another hundred for half and half ('Have you all forget that England was a delinquent?'), and Japan bet fifty thousand yen for England, claiming that even tsunderes could top, making Canada confused as hell because he didn't know what tsunderes mean.

Anyhow, the talk ended from the not so innocent discussion and betting pool to a full-blown documentation plan; documentation as in recording while America and England did the deed.

Canada didn't really remember how he got himself dragged onto this scheme, one moment he was voicing his opinion on the matter ('Um… Everyone… I think America and England would not like it…' 'Who?' 'I'm Canada, Kumajiro…') and the next France had already forced him to support their plan because the next world meeting would be held at Canada's house.

All Canada knew was it was Japan who made the 'bomb' equipped with the most advanced voice recorder, it was Hungary who came up with observing from the building's (where the meeting was being held) security room (more like forcing Canada to use his authority as the nation to hijacked the room for them), and it was one of France's security guards who acted as the courier.

And then here Canada was, standing on the back side of the security room, closing his eyes tightly, refusing to see the scandalous scene unfolded on one of the security monitors, and tried so hard to cover his ears so he didn't have to hear England's moan and America's ragged breath that was coming from the speaker plugged to Japan's hi-tech laptop.

Hungary was biting on her pristine white handkerchief, her eyes were practically sparkling with… sparkles. France was smirking in the most perverted way, he even panted slightly. And Japan… he was covering his eyes, but he didn't cover his eyes completely because there were still some gaps between his fingers.

"Three minutes left to go, Iggy? Wanna continue?"

Canada could hear America's surprisingly husky voice, despite him trying to cover his ears, from the speaker and chanced to see the monitor. He should've known once he opened his eyes it would be hard to shut them close again.

When England pushed America down, Canada saw France and Japan high-fived and Hungary almost ripped her handkerchief apart.

When America flipped their position, it was France and Hungry high-fiving now and Japan looked a bit disappointed albeit still fixed his eyes on the monitor.

When England bucked up his hips to meet with America's and they moaned each other's name, Canada clutched Kumajiro too tightly and made the polar bear grunted disapprovingly.

When more moans were heard, and the digital timer started to ticked faster, Canada noticed that France, Hungary, and Japan were all just few inches apart from the monitor.

When America started to unbutton England's shirt and trailed his lips over the older man's body, Canada found himself edging closer to where the three older nations sat… and he slapped himself hard on the cheek.

Twenty seconds left until the fake bomb 'exploded' and it looked to Canada that England actually had forgotten the bomb's existence because he was busy snogging America.

Ten seconds left and when Canada heard England saying he didn't care as long as he could die with America, Canada thought that he really was going to hell for supporting this scheme.

"_Mein Gott_… That's so beautiful, England!" Hungary sighed, dabbing some invisible tear from her eyes.

"I agree with you, Hungary-_san_," Japan nodded.

"Oh, oh! Look at _Amerique_'s hands!" France said, pointing his forefinger to the monitor where Canada could see his brother's hand groping England's groin. Canada's cheeks bloomed red and he looked away.

Only when the ticking from the digital timer stopped, that Canada let out a sigh and turned back to the monitor. He regretted his decision immediately because instead of trying to get out or look for help after they stopped the fake bomb from exploding (not that it would really explode, of course. Canada had made sure of that to Japan), America and England were continuing their activity.

Canada swore this was the most torturous four minutes he had ever experienced. Canada cleared his throat, "I… I think I'll just go…" he murmured and scooted away towards the exit. But France caught Canada's hand and forced him to sit together with them as America shed England's clothes one by one until the Brit was left with only his boxer.

"No, _mon cher_! You shall be the judge!"

And Canada could only say, 'Ma-maple…' as he saw his brother, _his own twin brother_, America, pulled England's cock out of his boxer and started to suck it off.

~Fin?~

* * *

**Endnote**::  
And that was part one of the omake. XDv  
The real omake will come next… this weekend at the earliest or earlier next week at the most. I need to work on my thesis' chapter one before I can write it.  
Oh god, I am really going to hell for procrastinating my thesis to write this. =3=

Review is loved like maple syrup. 3


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